


An Ending

by titanjammies (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Trigger Warning: Death, also gore i guess, go easy on me i wrote this a while ago i'm just uploading it, not graphic enough to get an archive warning but still pretty gory, this is really angsty and not too good i'm sorry, trigger warning: guns, yeah this is really a bad fic sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/titanjammies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where humanity is plagued by zombies, Marco Bodt is bitten. Jean's not quite willing to say goodbye</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god I hate this fic. It's really short and I wrote it months ago. I don't even know why I'm uploading it but whatever.

Jean Kirschstein’s survival log  
July 19th:

At around 8:30 P.M., Marco and I were surrounded by undead assfaces, cornered in a dark abandoned alleyway like some crappy horror movie. Well, except for the fact that this was not a movie but real life, and unlike a horror movie, this was actually terrifying. We didn’t have much in the way of weapons, or at least not practical ones. I had a baseball bat with some nails pounded into it, and Marco had a misshapen crowbar. (The misshapen part was thanks to Eren. I’ll do us all a favor and spare you the details of how he managed to fuck something made of METAL up so badly.)

Through experience (and Armin keeping records so we wouldn’t all forget), it was now common knowledge that the zombie attackers have one weak spot, and you can kill them by slicing or vigorously smashing the backs of their necks. The only problem is that you can’t get too close because if you get bitten, you’ll turn into a brain-eating freak within a week. You’ll lose your memories, normal appetite, and eventually your mind until there’s nothing left of you. You’re just a mindless zombie, and you’ll turn on your friends. There’s no way to fight it. You need a long weapon and/or decent aim, and we were lacking both.

There were around ten of the rotting creeps closing in on us, grinning with exposed teeth and sunken eyes. The smell was enough to kill a small rhinoceros, all rancid meat and metallic blood. Marco acted first, yelling and swinging his crowbar, bashing a zombie in the face with an unsettling crunch. Before I could really process what was happening, we were both going nuts on these shitheads, swinging our makeshift weapons and screaming ourselves hoarse. Actually, it was kind of fun once you got past the life-or-death part.

Mowing down the deteriorating crowd took around 25 minutes, or at least that’s what I assumed, but I couldn’t really tell because I had this weird feeling about the fight, like it had simultaneously lasted for ages and taken no time at all. I turned my attention to Marco. He was holding his now bloody crowbar and beaming in my general direction. For a split second I actually thought everything had gone perfectly and we’d actually get back to our current safe house in one piece, and I was about to crack a joke when everything went horribly wrong.

Marco’s smile contorted into a pained grimace, and he grabbed his right arm, dropping his weapon. 

“Marco?” I let my bat fall to the ground and ran to see what was happening.   
 _Oh god_ , I thought,  _oh shit no please don’t be a bite. God dammit please no no no don’t be a fucking bite_. There was blood running down Marco’s arm. There were clear tooth marks when he took his hand away, an ugly red ring of jagged holes. Marco looked at me then, and I wish he hadn’t because there were tears in his eyes and I could tell he was so scared but he was trying so hard not to be. I wanted to cry, to scream or throw something or smash the neck of every fucking monster within a fifty mile radius.

“Jean, we have to go back,” Marco’s voice was quiet and surprisingly composed, but that’s just his personality I guess. Calm when nobody else is, even when he’s the one in most immediate danger.

“What, so you can get a bullet in your head? Man w-”   
His expression made me stop. He knew there wasn’t a way to fix it this time. Wordlessly, we both stood up and started in the direction of the safe house.  
——————

It was almost dark when we reached the safe house, which is actually two abandoned warehouses (one where the girls sleep, and one where us guys try to sleep in spite of Reiner’s snoring.) with a huge empty space that at some point in the distant past probably had grass growing on it out back. Connie was keeping watch, leaning against the boys’ warehouse and swinging around a heavy duty flashlight like it wasn’t a valuable resource. The beam of light shone directly into my eyes, which wouldn’t have been horrible if Connie hadn’t noticed us at that exact moment and held the light steady.

"THEY’RE BACK," he yelled out in the direction of the empty lot.

"Yeah, put the damn flashlight down, you idiot!"

"Right sorry-" that’s when he noticed Marco’s arm. "Oh my god is that…"

Almost everyone had gathered around us by now, and I was pretty sure nobody needed to mention the bite marks. Nobody wanted to say what we all knew:

Marco was infected. He had to die.

It was dark now, and someone had turned on the street lamps above the warehouse doors, washing everything in ugly orange light. The silence roared in my ears. There had been times like this before, when we had to off someone before they went batshit and developed a taste for human flesh. It wasn’t anything new, but it was far from easy. Everyone liked Marco. He was one of those rare people who could find reasons to be happy no matter what was going on, and he cared about everyone.  _Literally everyone_ was important to Marco Bodt. Of course not everyone knew him well, but he didn’t have any enemies or rivals. Nobody wanted to see a kid like him die that way.

And then there was me. After one unbearably long minute of stunned silence, I thought my head would explode. You have a friend who would do anything for you, and you’d do anything for him, and even though your entire existence hangs by a thread, you don’t think about what would happen if one of you was gone. You have this subconscious idea that nothing is going to happen even though you know how outlandishly hopeful that is. And then, before you even realize what’s happening, that whole sense of security crumbles. I couldn’t even begin to imagine not having Marco here. This whole thing felt like some kind of horrible nightmare, the kind that makes you wake up screaming and causes people to look at you funny for days afterward.

It was Marco who finally broke the silence.

"Well I guess we don’t really have a choice," his voice was shaky, but he still wore a smile. "You should probably hurry up and shoot me before I’m dangerous."

Someone, I don’t remember who, asked if we should give everyone that wanted time to say goodbye. The infection wasn’t much of a threat until at least 24 hours, after all.

Hugs, handshakes, and friendly punches were exchanged. There were some tears, and a few half-hearted jokes and sad, forced laughter. I mostly hung back and watched it all play out, not trusting myself to keep it together. I wasn’t going to lie to myself and act like this wasn’t happening, but maybe it would hurt less if didn’t have to face him.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option. The group of people had mostly disbanded, and Marco was walking in my direction. If only the lights hadn’t been on, because I could see every detail of his face and I didn’t want to think about the bloody wound on his arm or about how this was the last time I would see life in his bright brown eyes or about how scared he looked and how scared I felt. We were hugging and I could tell he was holding back tears and I was holding onto my best friend for dear life and  _oh god this couldn’t be happening._

_  
_"It’s okay, Jean. It’s okay, you’ll be okay," Marco choked out finally, "I know you’ll be fine. I won’t see the end of this, but I know you’ll get there."

"Aren’t you worried you’re dying for nothing?" I pulled back, standing to face him. My voice cracked.

"It’s not for nothing. If I hadn’t fought off that pack back in the alley, who knows where we’d be," he grinned at me and I felt like I’d been hit by a semi truck hauling a blue whale at top speed.

_Dammit, Marco Bodt._   _You’re_ _not supposed to smile like that when you’re about to die, you fucking idiot._

"But how am I supposed t-"

"Jean, you’ll do just fine without me. Just try not to kill anyone, okay?" He smiled a little wider, "Try to be the somewhat nice person I know you are. You’re gonna be okay. You aren’t alone, you know."

I almost believed him.

We pulled each other into one last hug before Marco walked away for the last time.

A small group had gathered around Annie, who was loading a gun with an almost blank expression. Marco stopped a few feet in front of her. There were tears rolling down his freckly cheeks.

"I’m ready now."

**_BANG_ **

**_  
_**I couldn’t watch.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry you had to suffer through reading that. also what are titles.


End file.
